My neighbor had purchased a scrapbook at an estate sale. It has now found a home in our dining room. The dates of the contents stretch from the 1940s to 1960s. The scrapbook has fallen to pieces and now fills a large box with mementos from someone else’s life, her children, her relatives, scrapes & bruises, awards, letters from teachers, get-well cards. As we piece through this woman’s life, we find joy and peace. I like this scrapbook. Since I don’t recognize the faces and have only clues to the stories, I get to make up my own, to dream of the stories each picture or card holds. Can’t wait to use them in my art!